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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986429">Don’t Show Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PouncySilverkitten/pseuds/PouncySilverkitten'>PouncySilverkitten</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don’t Leave Me [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And elsewhere, Beau enjoys being kicked in the ribs, Boot Riding, Boot Worship, F/F, boot blacking, boot licking, kicking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:13:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PouncySilverkitten/pseuds/PouncySilverkitten</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beau puts in some serious time at Yasha’s feet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett - Relationship, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don’t Leave Me [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don’t Show Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Doing something slightly different here. This one’s from Beau’s perspective! Thanks to dichromaniac for proofreading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The boot hit Beau in the ribs and it was all she could do not to crumple as the impact almost lifted her into the air.</p><p>Instead, she let the air <em>whuff</em> out of her in a gasp tinted with the mottled noise of a moan, doing her best to return to the position she’d been ordered into; hands and knees, with her hands under her shoulders, her knees under her hips, her back straight. The monks who had taught her yoga had called it <em>tabletop pose.</em></p><p>Just as she caught her breath, she took another kick,this one forceful enough that it knocked her onto her side. She crumpled, curling instinctually to protect her torso, even as the boot descended on her face.</p><p>The treads pressed into her cheek, making her grunt as she tried to wriggle out from under it.</p><p>“Stop.”</p><p>Beau froze, the voice bending her to its will.</p><p>“This is your fault, Beauregard. You deserve this. You messed up, and now you have to fix it.” The voice was dispassionate; disappointed, but not much. It hadn’t expected better of her.</p><p>The ache in her chest at those words had nothing to do with being kicked.</p><p>“‘M sorry.”</p><p>“I can’t hear you, Beauregard.” The boot ground down harder, pressing her face into the rough boards of the floor, making her gasp.</p><p>“I’m sorry!” She grunted, her thoughts slowly being lost in the incandescent brightness of pain radiating from her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please let me fix it.”</p><p>The boot pressed down further. The treads ground into her cheekbone, the floor below her refusing to give any more. Just when she thought the pressure might crack her cheekbone or rip her skin off, it lifted. Gingerly, Beau raised a hand and explored her face, fingers tracing the dimpled grid from the tread on the sole of the boots.</p><p>“Up.” A hand grasped her hair, tugging harshly, and Beau scrambled to her knees, following it. As she knelt, the boot planted itself on her thigh, the cold leather extending far enough that it presses between her breasts. “Clean it.”</p><p>Gingerly, she leaned forwards until her nose and lips were pressed to the smooth leather, then - hating herself - extended her tongue, running it along the length of the knee-high boot, contorting herself further and further until she had to lift the boot from her thigh to reach the base of the foot where the leather upper joined the sole.</p><p>It tasted muddy, grit prickling against her tongue, but she resisted the urge to spit, instead licking over that spot until she was sure it was clean.</p><p>“Stop.” The voice commanded. She did. “Beauregard, what are your hands doing?”</p><p>Beau flinched. She hadn’t noticed, but her hand had crept between her legs and snuck into her underwear, two fingers unceremoniously rubbing across her clit, easing the pressure thrumming through it from her aching ribs.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Her tongue felt strange after cleaning the dirt, somehow tender and gritty at the same time.</p><p>“I asked you a question.” The leather of the boot creaked as it caught her in the chest, the pressure pushing her up and sideways until she lost her balance and fell onto her back, sprawling there on the uneven boards as the boot came to rest on her throat. “You didn’t answer.”</p><p>“Uh. I was touching myself?” It was hard to speak with the pressure on her throat.</p><p>“That still isn’t an answer to my question. I asked you what your hand was doing.”</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. “It was... uh, masturbating me?”</p><p>The answer - which sounded stupid even as it passed her lips - was met with silence. The boot stayed where it was - if it hadn’t been for that, she might have thought she was alone.</p><p>“Why were you masturbating?”</p><p>Beau stayed silent. Of all the answers that sprang to mind - <em>Because I wanted to. Because this is hot as shit. Because fuck you</em> - none of them were going to make her situation any better.</p><p>“I’m genuinely curious.” The boot left her throat, and Beau gasped in an unencumbered breath before the question <em>where next?</em> popped into her mind.</p><p>A moment later, it was answered - her legs were kicked apart, and the sole of the boot was pressing against her crotch.</p><p>“What is it about this that’s soaking your underwear clean through?” The voice continued. “Is it the scolding? Is it being on your knees, licking my boots clean? Are you getting off on me kicking you?”</p><p>Beau fought back the urge to move as the boot rocked back and forth, the pressure on her clit increasing to the point of pain, then easing back down to imperceptibility, hovering in the perfect sweet spot for only a moment each time.</p><p>“I... uh... all of that?” The boot ground down, the ball of the foot pressing against her clit and grinding on it, the pain making Beau sit bolt upright. “Fuck!”</p><p>The hand was in her hair again, pulling her upright, nestling the top of the foot between her legs. It pressed against her <em>just there</em> and instinctively Beau pressed her hips forwards, grinding into the soft supple leather.</p><p>The hand didn’t pull her away, but it didn’t help either, pressing her face against the smooth, warm skin above the boot. Beau gasped a little, lips parting to kiss it, her arms moving without conscious thought to wrap around the softness and hold herself close.</p><p>“Such a needy girl.” The voice was soft, and Beau felt a thrill run to the base of her spine as fingers caressed her shoulders. “I know you want to.”</p><p>Her hips sped up, rubbing along the arch of the leather where foot met ankle met calf, the friction and pressure so good but not enough. “Please.”</p><p>“Please what?” The voice asked, but Beau was so caught in chasing friction that it was all she could do to murmur “please”, over and over.</p><p>The boot pulled away and Beau made a muted noise of disappointment, but then it came back, kicking her pussy. A wave of pain spread out from the impact, and she gasped, struggling to stay upright.</p><p>“I asked you a question, Beauregard. Please what?”</p><p>“Please can I cum?” Beau grunted, the space between her thighs achingly empty.</p><p>“No.” The boot pushed her off-balance. “You’re going to polish my boots to a mirror finish, Beauregard. Once I’m happy, you will be permitted to cum around my boot.”</p><p>The image made Beau’s clit pulse.</p><p>“But I can’t-“</p><p>“Quiet.”</p><p>“How will I-“</p><p>The breath was ripped out of her as the boot kicked her in the ribs again.</p><p>“I said quiet, Beauregard.”</p><p>Beau lay on the ground gasping for breath.</p><p>“Now, I believe you have a question for me.”</p><p>Beau rolled onto her side, coughing, and sat up. “Please- uh, please can I polish your boots?”</p><p>“You may.”</p><p>A hand pressed a small tin into Beau’s left hand, and a rag into the other. A moment later, the familiar pressure of the sole of the boot settled onto her thigh again.</p><p>Beau took a deep breath, the tingling pulsing heat between her legs tempting her. Rather than feed it, she started polishing, the leather smooth under her fingers. The wax was thick and smelled sweet against the slight pungency of well-worn leather, and she applied it in circular motions with two fingers.</p><p><em>Exactly the way you could be getting off right now</em>, a little voice inside her said. <em>Imagine how good that would feel.</em></p><p>She buried that thought, clamping her thighs together and covering the entire foot before working her way up the leather of the calf.</p><p>The motion of applying it was so simple and repetitive that it became almost meditative, just a simple circular motion of service that-</p><p>“Stop now, Beauregard.” The words jolted her from her reverie. “Wipe the wax off.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Beau began doing that, going back over the leather with a clean section of the rag.</p><p>“Would you like to touch yourself?” As she leant back, the boot nudged between her legs, brushing against her clit. Beau gasped, nodding as the pleasure washed through her.</p><p>The boot stilled, and Beau took it as her cue to start moving, her underwear just enough of a buffer to keep the friction pleasurable.</p><p>“There’s a needy girl. Ride my boot, hmm? Show me what you are.”</p><p>The words were bad enough, but <em>fuck</em> - the disdain in the voice almost sent Beau over the edge, and she pulled back, almost throwing herself off-balance in her desperation not to cum.</p><p>“Well done. Wax the other boot now.”</p><p>And so it began again, a meditative act of service punctuated only by the throbbing from Beau’s clit brushing against her own skin or her underwear as she shifted position.</p><p>And then she had to edge again, dreading the question because <em>of course she wanted to touch herself</em> but it was hardly going to help her focus on finishing the task at hand.</p><p>The worst was having to use her own spit to sheen the polish; licking the leather, every tug and drag against her tongue might as well have been against her clit until she could feel the soaked crotch of her boy shorts clinging to her pussy, sending ripples of pleasure through her every time she had to change her position, a hundred times before she was done.</p><p>Her breathing was ragged as she buffed the leather for what felt like an age, careful to find all the little nooks and crannies and pay them special attention before she sat back, careful to keep her legs spread wide in case she accidentally came from just a single brush of fabric against her clit.</p><p>“Do you think you’ve done a good enough job, Beauregard?”</p><p>It was impossible to read anything in the tone or inflection, so Beau chose her words carefully, doing her best to keep her voice level.</p><p>“I think that your opinion far outweighs mine.”</p><p>The chuckle sent chills along Beau’s spine that lodged in the pit of her stomach and shot jolts through her clit.</p><p>“Good answer.”</p><p>And then quiet. Beau fought the urge to fiddle and fidget, to say something, anything. The tension built and built until it was almost unbearable.</p><p>“Take your underwear off.”</p><p>Beau did, scrambling to return to a kneeling position just as a boot nudged between her legs. A hand tangled in her hair, pulling her forwards, and Beau gasped, the pressure of the leather on her clit all she could feel for a moment before she realised her lips were pressed against warm skin.</p><p>“Needy little slut.” The words somehow made the leather feel even better against her clit, every millimetre of the smooth surface a world of pleasure that rolled through her in waves. “Go on, no teasing this time.”</p><p>Beau’s hips were moving of their own accord, the pleasure building even before the voice spoke again.</p><p>“You know, I always thought you were a desperate slut. I didn’t think it would be this easy to make you ride my boot, though.” It sounded amused by her pathetic neediness and the tone made Beau whimper even as it fed her arousal, amplifying it to new heights. </p><p>The voice said something else, but it was too much for Beau to think her way through. There was a crease in the curve of the leather that felt perfect, and she rutted against it, the small human part of her brain protesting even as the animal part forced her hips to move faster. As she did, she felt her orgasm building inside her, the waves getting steeper and curling over more and more until <em>yes, just there</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Beau was capable of coherent thought again, the blindfold had been pulled off her, and Yasha was leaning down, her hands covering Beau’s eyes.</p><p>“Shh, Beau. Easy. Good girl.”</p><p>Beau melted into Yasha’s arms at the praise, and Yasha slowly slipped her fingers apart, letting tiny slivers of light in to let Beau’s eyes acclimatise.</p><p>When she could see again, the first thing Beau did was go to the boots that still wrapped around Yasha’s long legs, examine the polish on them.</p><p>“Did I do a good job?” She asked, running her fingers over the leather, and Yasha nodded.</p><p>“Well done, Beau. You can rest now.”</p><p>She wanted to - gods, did Beau want to rest. But there was something else, something beside the aching in her ribs and the pleasant tingling in her crotch.</p><p>Instead of climbing up onto the bed, she pushed Yasha’s legs apart, planting kisses up the inside of the aasimar’s pale thighs.</p><p>Yasha’s breath shuddered through an exhale. “Beau, you don’t have to-“</p><p>“I want to.” Beau murmured. She was close enough now that she could smell Yasha, even over the taste of the beeswax that lingered in her mouth. “Please.”</p><p>Yasha didn’t say anything, but she leant back and spread her legs, her breathing deepening as Beau planted a tentative kiss just on her clit.</p><p>Yasha shuddered under her and Beau pulled back, licking along her lips and drinking in her taste before going back to focusing on her clit, her tongue circling and flicking across it.</p><p>Yasha’s reactions were amazing; Beau could hear her breathing harder and harder, rocking her hips into Beau’s face. As Beau nipped just a little at her lips, Yasha gasped and moaned, her legs closing around Beau’s head.</p><p>“Gods, Beau, don’t stop.” Yasha moaned, and the thought crossed Beau’s mind that she could draw this out, get some payback.</p><p>But Yasha tasted too good to stop, and in any case the ache in her ribs was both pleasant and a gentle reminder of what would happen if she forgot her place. So she kept her tongue on Yasha’s clit, flicking back and forth in a steady rhythm as Yasha’s legs trembled around her.</p><p>As Beau’s tongue made a particular swirling motion, Yasha shuddered above her, her thighs clamping down on Beau’s head, holding her in place. Beau took the hint and repeated the movement, then again and again, drinking Yasha in, her lmoans filling Beau’s ears as she came.</p><p>Beau stayed kneeling between Yasha’s legs until her orgasm had passed and Yasha pulled her up into an embrace.</p><p>“Beau, that was amazing. I never thought... that was so hot.”</p><p>Beau smiled, playing with the leather that folded over at the top of Yasha’s boot. “I told you you’d be amazing.”</p><p>“And I didn’t kick you too hard?” Yasha’s fingers gently probed along Beau’s sides, the gentle warmth of her healing magic soaking through Beau’s skin and taking the worst of the ache.</p><p>“No.” Beau sighed, relaxing into Yasha’s touch. “Although any harder and I’ll probably need more than your healing.”</p><p>“Let’s not go there any time soon.”</p><p>“No.” Somehow, without Beau noticing, Yasha had wrapped a blanket around them. She plucked at it. “Thank you, Yasha.”</p><p>“Anything for you.”</p><p>Beau let her eyes close and her head rest on Yasha’s chest, breathing in time with her girlfriend’s heart.</p>
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